Shadow of Sin (The Martin Family) (15 page)

“I make it my business to know all of my wife’s friends.” His statement sounded more like a warning.

“You’ve remarried? I hadn’t heard.”

Her dig missed its mark and Vincent smiled, setting her on edge. “I’ve never been divorced, Miss Quinn. You should know that better than anyone. Well, except myself and my darling wife, that is.”

Samantha didn’t like the way he stared at her. He was bluffing. He had to be, but she wouldn’t rest until she knew for sure. She’d sneak to the ladies room and call Carlotta just as soon as she could get away from this asshole.

His gaze traveled down her body. “Has someone been dipping into daddy’s money, my dear? I don’t understand a woman’s need to buy such outrageously expensive garments. Not to mention the shoes.” He glanced at her feet. “I don’t relish feeling the bite of those heels on my feet tonight, dear. Do be careful.”

Samantha gave him a sweet smile, the first indication of her rising temper. The insinuation she’d take anything from her father made her sick to her stomach. “With all due respect, Mr. Matteo, fuck off. Unless you’ve got a specific reason for this visit, I’ve endured your company enough for one evening.”

Rat bastard.

She pulled a glass from the tray of a passing server. What she wouldn’t give for a shot or two of her favorite cinnamon whiskey to calm her nerves. Unfortunately, her choices were wine or champagne, neither of which she cared much for. If Vincent wanted to feign outrage at something overpriced, he should start by yelling at the party planner about the wine. This was a fundraiser for chrissake. They were supposed to raise money, not spend it on fancy-schmancy food and drinks.

Another reason she’d usually shied away from this kind of thing.

Vincent raised an eyebrow. “You and I have a few things to discuss. Come, join me for a dance. I won’t keep you long.” His eyes cut toward Caleb. “I’d imagine our time together this evening is limited.”

“For the love of … give me one good reason why I should dance with you.” Worry for Carlotta and the mention of her father had her temper frayed to the thinnest of threads. One wrong move, one cross look, and she was going to blow.

“Please, dear. Let’s not make a scene. It’s bad for business.” Vincent held his hand out expectantly.

Pure curiosity forced her to set down her glass and place her hand in his. Sam grimaced when the cold, clammy flesh wrapped a little too tightly around her as he led her to the floor.

“I can’t imagine what business you think you have with me.”

She cast a glance at Caleb. Everyone in his group was talking at once. Knowing he was close, Samantha felt confident as she turned her attention back to Vincent.

“Let’s get one thing straight. If we were anywhere else, I’d be shoving my
outrageously expensive
pumps up that arrogant ass of yours.”

“You’ve got quite a mouth,” Vincent turned and yanked her close against his body. “Someone should really see to that.”

Samantha jerked from his grip and smoothed her hands down her dress. “It would take more man than you, I can promise you that.”

His cheeks mottled red at her insult. “And the man who accompanied you tonight—Caleb Martin, is it? Is he such a man?”

“He’s more man that you’ll ever hope to be.”

Vincent tilted his head, studying her. “Is that so? I suppose you also believe our meeting here is a coincidence.” Humor lightened his eyes. “Don’t fool yourself, Samantha. It’s unbecoming an intelligent woman such as yourself.”

Samantha bit the inside of her cheek, desperate to distract herself from the urge to knock that smug look right off his face. “You’re delusional. I had no idea you’d be here tonight. If I had, I may have changed my mind about attending.”

His smile grew. He grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor. “Yes, I’m sure you would have. Interestingly though, you say your gentleman is the better man, yet I’d guess you had no idea he secured tonight’s invitations using your name, your
father’s
name, instead of his own.”

He turned and bowed slightly before pulling her toward him. Samantha placed her hand on his shoulder and stared up at him as he started a slow waltz.

Her mind whirled. What was he talking about? Why would Caleb do such a thing and not mention it to her? Why would he do it at all?

“Be careful, Vincent. You’re dangerously close to sounding as if your interest in my affairs extends beyond casual curiosity. Tell me, where do you get your information?”

Vincent’s grip on her hand increased; pain shot through her palm and into her wrist. She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to give him the satisfaction of crying out. She plastered a smile on her face for the benefit of anyone watching.

Tension radiated from him as he spoke next to her ear. “Do not waste your energy trying to intimidate me. I promise you, it will not work to your advantage. It seems your
better
man hasn’t told you everything. I wonder what else he’s hiding?”

Samantha’s temper flared, her mouth opening before she could stop it. “Go to hell.”

As if her outburst had been expected, Vincent smiled. “Come now, there is no need for all this hostility. I simply sought you out to assure you that I hold no ill feelings toward you, or your misguided notion about my relationship with my wife. I can forgive your accusations that I’d have some reason to harass you, as I can assure you, I have no such reason.”

Samantha’s feet stopped moving of their own accord. She needed to get in touch with Carlotta. Now.

She searched the crowd for Caleb. If he’d set this up without telling her, she’d kick his ass. Later. Right now, she could use an intervention.

The moment she captured his gaze he straightened, his defensive stance immediately drawing Joe’s attention. Joe glanced her way, and then leaned down to whisper in Amanda’s ear. Amanda tensed and nodded, then looked her way as well.

Interesting. None of them seemed surprised to see her with Vincent.

Chapter 15

Caleb closed the distance to Samantha within seconds.

Using more force than he’d intended, he jerked her from Vincent’s clutches. She swore and wobbled on her heels, her nails digging into his biceps for support. He placed a steadying hand at the small of her back and a low growl escaped his lips when she tried to move away.

He was so close to losing it.

Samantha was strong. Full of life. Fearless. Or, so Caleb had thought. Then, Vincent had come along and he’d gotten his first taste of what Samantha’s fear looked like.

He didn’t like it. Not one. Fucking. Bit. He’d like to give some of that fear back to the bastard—share the wealth.

Taking a deep breath, Caleb fought to steady his rapid heartbeat. He couldn’t let emotion cloud his judgment. He’d paved that road to hell before, and had the scars to prove it. He wouldn’t do it again.

Focus.

“What do you think you’re doing, Matteo?”

“Mr. Martin, I’ve been expecting you,” Vincent said.

Samantha’s muscles tensed under his hand. Caleb shifted her to his side and wrapped a protective arm around her waist—his need to reassure her as strong as his need to feel the warmth of her body.

Vincent addressed her. “I see our dance has come to an end.” He reached as if to touch her and Caleb shot out an arm to cut him off.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Vincent’s lip curled into a knowing smirk and offered a polite nod instead. “Remember what I said. Things are not always as they seem.”

Samantha cast a quizzical glance at Vincent. “So you’ve said.”

Caleb wasn’t in the mood for these games. Damn it, he should’ve kept a closer eye on her. They’d checked the gardens and casually inquired with the guests. Caleb had been certain Vincent hadn’t arrived before them. He and Joe had been watching the entrances, not considering Vincent would slip in from another direction. Not that it mattered anymore.

Faced with what he’d hoped to avoid, Caleb gently cupped Samantha’s neck. Her pulse raced under his hands. He bent his knees slightly, using his thumbs to raise her chin until she looked at him.

“You okay, sweetheart? Did he say something to upset you?”

Her hands trembled as she brushed an errant curl from her eyes. She nodded slowly as she stared off to an unknown spot behind him. “Yes … no.” She shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts. “I mean, yes, I’m fine.”

Caleb wasn’t so sure. Regardless, he wanted her away from Vincent. “Joe and Amanda are waiting for you. Give me a minute and we’ll get out of here, okay?”

She studied him for a long moment, as if trying to read his thoughts. Caleb knew that look. Her suspicions were actively creating scenarios and outcomes—suspicions that would bite him in the ass.

He should’ve just told her the truth, but old habits die hard. He’d rolled the dice and lost.

“Do what you need to do,” she said finally and pulled from his grasp. “Find me when you’re done,” she tossed over her shoulder as she walked away.

“What’s your game here?” Caleb demanded as he stepped in front of Vincent’s wandering gaze, blocking any attempt to stare at Samantha’s backside as she retreated.

“I should ask you the same question. You’ve been trying to track me down for months. I expected a bit more hospitality for making myself available to you.”

“You could’ve done that a year ago when I first contacted your office.” Caleb looked over his shoulder in time to see Samantha snag Amanda’s arm and drag her towards the ladies room. Joe smirked and followed behind. If they stayed in there too long, Joe wouldn’t think twice about barging in.

“I’m a busy man, Mr. Martin, as I’m sure my assistant informed you.”

“Repeatedly,” Caleb said dryly, his own suspicions developing. “You knew I’d come looking for you tonight.”

Vincent stopped a passing waiter and helped himself to a glass of wine. He swirled the vibrant red liquid before taking a liberal drink. “I simply made sure my attendance was well advertised. The rest was entirely your doing. We have much in common, wouldn’t you agree? Determined men, willing to do anything to achieve our goals.”

Caleb smiled as if he were enjoying a pleasant conversation, when inwardly he seethed at the implication. “You tormented and beat up your wife for sport. I’d say that makes us very different.” A husband should love and protect his wife, cherish and honor the vows spoken. Vows that didn’t include fear and pain.

“Have you ever done anything you’ve regretted?”

Vincent’s thoughtful expression turned his stomach as familiar images burned his brain, a past that would stay with him forever. Vincent didn’t know anything about real regret. He was a schoolyard bully who threw his money and power around to get his way.

“I’d imagine a man like you has plenty to regret. For example, if you’d hired someone to take shots at Samantha. That would be regrettable.”

Vincent downed his remaining wine. “Regrettable, indeed. It would be a shame to lose such a beautiful creature, would it not? With the right hand, she might even learn to control her tongue.”

Her tongue was perfect. Delicious and tempting. Whether she was using it to torment his lust or chastise him for being an ass, every time she opened her mouth, he burned with desire for her.

Caleb didn’t need to hear any more. This man was a viable threat. He’d not stop until he got what he wanted—or until Caleb stopped him. Which meant he needed a new game plan. Still, he issued his warning.

“Hotshot businessman like you understands deals, right? Well, here’s one for you. Leave Samantha alone. Forget you’ve ever heard of her, or you’ll deal with me. And let me assure you, I’m not an enemy you want to make.”

Vincent chuckled. “Not much for negotiations, are you?”

“There’s nothing to negotiate. Back the fuck off. In case you missed it, that’s not a request. Personally, I think you should thank me for being so generous.” Caleb lowered his voice in veiled threat. “It wasn’t my first choice.”

“And I suppose you have some kind of evidence as a basis for your threat?”

Caleb straightened to his full height and took a step forward. “I’m gonna make myself real clear. You wanna play with the big boys, then stay on the path you’ve chosen. Do it, and the sting of your wife leaving your sorry ass will pale in comparison to the pain I’ll leave you with. Trust me when I say that no amount of money can save you if any harm comes to Samantha.”

Vincent’s eyes darkened and he clenched a fist, as if the threat and reminder of losing his wife renewed his anger.

“My, my.” His haughty accent became clipped. “That’s an awfully big threat over one, insignificant female. But, I know that look.” Vincent raised his empty glass in a mock toast. “You’ve fucked the little redhead, haven’t you? Tell me, Mr. Martin, was she worth it? I find very few pussies are. Maybe I’ll have to see for myself what she feels like wrapped around my dick.”

Rage filled him. Before he could stop himself, Caleb fisted the lapels of Vincent’s jacket and jerked him to his toes. “Keep it up, you stupid fuck, and I will end you. If you touch her, if you so much as even brush by her in a crowd, I’ll finish this once and for all. You hear me?”

His beautiful Samantha. The thought of this maggot’s hands so much as attempting to mar the beauty of her skin was enough to push him to the limits of his restraint.

A heavy hand landed on Caleb’s shoulder, stopping him from ripping Vincent’s voice box out through his throat.

“Caleb.” Joe’s voice was stern at his ear. “Everything all right?”

Caleb shrugged him off. “Peachy.”

He held on to Vincent a moment more, letting the man feel the full weight of his fury. His face paled slightly and fear flashed in Vincent’s eyes.

Good. Message received.

“Let him go, Caleb. People are watching,” Joe said.

Shoving Vincent away, Caleb rubbed his palms together. Years of training kept his heart at a steady beat in his chest, but he felt far from calm.

Vincent straightened his jacket with a sharp pull, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips. “This conversation has been quite … enlightening. I trust I haven’t seen the last of you.”

“For your sake, I’d hope you have,” Caleb warned.

Caleb waited until Vincent had slipped out the door and into the gardens before releasing the air from his chest. Emotions he’d never felt before raced through his system, knocked him off balance.

“We’ll get him, don’t worry,” Joe said.

“Damn right, we will.” Caleb’s voice lacked conviction. His instincts fired on all cylinders as the conversation with Vincent replayed in his head. Vincent had been relaxed. Confident. Too confident, as if he knew something Caleb didn’t. What was he missing?

He’d completely botched this night, and for what? He’d gotten face-time with Vincent, but that didn’t mean Samantha was any safer than she’d been before. The only way to know for sure was to let her go and wait to see if Vincent would strike again. The thought that it could be the last strike, the one that took her from him forever, threatened to smother him.

His vision blurred as he pictured her, so full of spunk, so full of life.

She’d been through more than any woman should, yet she’d held on, determined to keep going, stay strong. Those few times she’d let him in, he’d seen her vulnerability, her desire to be loved.

She kept him sharp, on his toes, with her quick wit and independence. He loved the way she laughed when she was nervous and tore his ass up when he’d pissed her off. Most of all, he loved the need that shone in her eyes each time he touched her, as if he was the only man in the world who could give her what she needed.

The thought that she could be taken from him … Caleb shook his head in denial.

He wasn’t prepared for a world without her in it. Suddenly, he didn’t know who he’d be without her.

He’d never been in love before, but he’d seen Joe with his sister. He’d seen the fierce need and desire, Joe’s determination to keep Amanda safe, to make her happy for the rest of her life.

Did he feel that way about Samantha?

Hell, yeah, he did.

But wasn’t the idea of love supposed to be like a lightning bolt? A jolt to the system? Fireworks or some shit like that?

He didn’t feel any different. The realization that he loved Samantha washed over him like a lover’s caress, smooth and soft. As if it had been there all along and he was just catching up.

He was so screwed.

She’d given this thing between them an expiration date. She wouldn’t let go of that idea easily. No. More than likely, she’d believe their forced companionship had caused some sort of emotional response in him.

He’d have to prove to her that he was in this for the long haul.

Time wasn’t on his side. They needed to regroup. Her safety came first. Then, he’d turn his attention to their relationship.

“Fair warning, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

And then there was that.

Caleb didn’t appreciate the humor in Joe’s tone. “You worry about your girl, and I’ll worry about mine. Remember?”

Looks like he had his work cut out for him.

* * *

Vincent sat on the secluded bench, cigar smoke permeating the air around him. He looked comfortable, relaxed, not at all concerned about watching his back.

One of his many faults, Mark thought as h
e approached. The rich, sweet scent of the cigar tickled his nose as he maneuvered around the artful landscape. A scent that had the potential to give their location away.

Mark ground his teeth together. He’d grown tired of the ignorance of others. He’d selected this spot on purpose. They were far enough away to ensure privacy. Evidence of the party beyond this section of the garden could be heard, yet no one had dared venture out into the shadowy pathways. It wasn’t that kind of party.

It was the perfect spot. Unless the scent from Vincent’s cigar brought them some well-intentioned guest looking to share a smoke.

He’d just have to make this quick.

An excited flutter ran through him as the final pieces of his plan fell neatly into place. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this kind of anticipation—since he’d felt anything.

He slid onto the bench next to Vincent. “Did you do as I asked?”

Vincent drew from his cigar, taking his time before allowing a stream of smoke to spill from his lips.

“I did.” A smirk curled his lips. “You were right. There’s definitely something going on between Samantha Quinn and Caleb Martin. The slightest mention of threat to her and he was ready to rip my throat out.”

“He cares for her.” The knowledge, now confirmed, strengthened his resolve.

Investigating the glowing tip of his cigar, Vincent nodded. “Quite a lot, I’d say. She’s skittish, but the feelings appear to be mutual.”

“Excellent,” he murmured, satisfied his instincts had served him well.

“Caleb Martin is a formidable opponent. You’d better know what you’re doing.” Vincent puffed on the cigar, his cheeks hollowing with each draw. “This cat and mouse you play … you’re putting us all at risk. Don’t forget who holds the purse strings here. I’ve funded your little endeavor because of my wife, and to what end?”

Mark bristled at the man’s arrogance. As if Vincent had done him a favor. As if Vincent ever did anything out of the goodness of his heart.

They weren’t so different, he and Vinny-boy. They were both killers, masters of their trades.

Vincent was a ruthless businessman who’d stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He’d fuck another man’s wife, his daughter—occasionally at the same time if the photos Mark had seen were accurate—to ensure cooperation from high level officials. If that didn’t work, he’d call on his old neighborhood chums to join in the fun. Oh yeah, Vinnie had some very interesting friends back in New York.

He’d bankrupt a man, take his business, his home, his life—without so much as a blink. While Vincent may not know the feel of a man’s blood on his hands, his heart was as cold and black as Mark’s.

“The end remains the same,” Mark informed him calmly.

“You should know, I plan to collect my wife and leave the country. I have business interests overseas to tend to and Carly needs a change of scenery. I expect you to honor our arrangement.”